Workshop

I missed the poetry workshop today and I have no good excuse. It's certainly an opportunity wasted. They are fine company who supply a great product, careful but incisive criticism. In an attempt to salvage something for the weekend, I'll post it here. If any of you good souls who find themselves passing through the neighborhood wish to comment, please do. And no holds barred. Let 'er rip. Thank you.


Waiting for the Tempest

The sky was clear of every bird.
A slight near pond was iced up still--
no swan was waltzing in its calms.
Nothing stirred for a spell until
a sharp-shinned hawk winged into view,
then vanished earthwards to pursue
whatever life hid in the reeds
along the limits of that pond.
Again a void infused the air.
But then, as if Prospero’s wand
itself had shook, an eagle flew,
emerging from the hitherto
unseen. That hawk would follow fast.
Their wings expanded, swelled in flight,
imbuing my binoculars
with one round all-embracing sight--
which in perspective passed away,
beyond the marsh and over the bay.

~Greg Perry